Motherhood Uncensored

Please pass the jelly

One of the hardest parts of kids getting older is that you just can't get away with what you used to  - the mid-day hanky panky that can be explained away as "wrestling," or the entertaining toys that you have laying around everywhere that just so happen to buzz at 16 different pleasure levels.

I can see why it's easy to become royal fuddy duddies when you've got kids who are five and older.

It's not so much that you want to say "sugar" instead of "shit," or have sex behind completely sound proof and locked doors with all the lights off.

Okay, so maybe the pitch black room isn't such a bad thing.

But no parent really wants to deal with a kid getting in trouble at school for calling their teacher "a royal bitch," nor do they want a verbal transcript of their sexcapades to be shared with the entire neighborhood.

Thankfully, we're not there yet.

But we're on our way.

As you might have guessed, I've got a few sex-related items lying around my house, given the fact that I write a sex column and I have a sex book for parents coming out soon.  

I've even got a Liberator Esse chaise sitting in my living room - a borrowed prop for my book trailer shoot last week.

Based on my kids' reaction, you'd have thought we brought a jungle gym into our house.

And while the infamous condom lollipops have been tempting, we've avoided any such issues with them.

They ask if they can eat one. We say no. End of story.

However, I was doing a massive clean-up yesterday and apparently my oldest got a hold of a condom in a regular wrapper.

Hilariously enough, she didn't know that those were off limits.

Now I only discovered this because she came down talking about making a window cleaning solution and how she found this weird jelly type thing in her room.

"It's like a jelly fish, mom" she said. I had no clue what the hell she was talking about.

But the idea that she was making some soapy concoction with which she was planning on washing her own windows made me curious enough to go check it out.

And there it was. In a cup full of water.

A Trojan "jelly fish."

At just over five years old, I didn't think she was quite ready for a condom speech. But I did make sure she understood that they're not great for cleaning windows.

Hey, it's a start. 

Possessed

The last few weeks with Drew have tried my patience.

This week alone he put black crayon all over our wainscoting (yes, Julie, that wainscoting). Then there was my Almay cream blush all over his bedroom carpet.

(Perhaps he was rebelling against the pink walls he now shares with his sister).

And finally, he completely covered Margot in lotion. This stinky cheap lotion my father-in-law brought back from Vegas (also: WTF?) that I didn't have the heart to toss.

See, I should have listened to my gut on this one.

"I made her a white baby!" he exclaimed.

But the laughable moments are hidden deep amongst a challenging duel of wits. 

And I think he's winning.

I offer two choices and he picks something entirely different. I hear the word "No" from his mouth more times that I would like to count.

And that's in a five minute time span.

And his little potty mouth, particularly when he's pissed, sends him to the corner every hour on the hour.

The timer and I now have an intimate relationship.

We're at a complete loss as to what to do around here, since the only thing that actually occupies him is our full and utter attention or the television; he can play alone for about five minutes before calling for us, or he ends up fighting with his sisters before we can actually get anything done.

We're trying an earlier bed time and less sugar (which he really doesn't get much of to begin with). 

And hoping that 3 is a little better than 2 and 10 months.

Tis the season to be jolly. Very very jolly.

My editor emailed to let me know that my book might actually be in my hands before Christmas. Which means that it might actually be in your hands (and the hands of all your friends and neighbors) before Christmas.

WOO!

So, if you're interested in getting a signed copy of "The Mominatrix's Guide to Sex," along with a Mominatrix t-shirt as a holiday gift for someone (or many someones), just send me an email to mominatrixbook[at]gmail[dot]com with your inscription, address, and tshirt size. I'll send you payment info and then will make sure you (or your recipient) gets the t-shirt and a cute Mominatrix card letting you (or them) know that someone thought enough to send them a sex book for Christmas (heh). I'll even toss in some condom lollipops.

And then when the books come in (which I hope will be before Christmas, but could be later), I'll send them a book with the inscription.

Cost: $35

In a similar vein, I've also got my annual Mominatrix Holiday Gift Guide, chock full of sexy gifts for moms and dads, whether you've got a clean freak, an accessories whore, or a Shredhead, all of which you can find at Eden Fantasys, a one-stop mom friendly shop (that's also sponsoring part of my book tour next year - sweet!).

Even if you don't want a glass dildo for Christmas, you should still go take a peek because in the least, you'll get a little chuckle.

And if you have questions about any of the goodies in my guide, then make sure to tune into my podcast later this morning (you did know I had a sex podcast, right?). We'll be talking with a sex toy expert (how does one get that job - that's what I want to know) from Eden Fantasys about what's new and hot for the holiday season. Come chat - it's fun. I promise. 10:30 EST

If you don't want to miss the show, subscribe to it via iTunes. It's free and fairly entertaining.

And if sex toys are not what you're asking Santa for this holiday season, you'll definitely find something on the Cool Mom Picks Holiday Gift Guide, which has over 100 amazingly cool items for everyone in your family. My hat's off to my brilliant partner Mom 101 for what I think is one freaking awesome guide.

Yes, I'm biased.

So go shop!

Uh oh

A few days ago, I could have sworn I heard Margot say "Uh oh.

At first, I thought maybe I was having one of those over zealous mommy moments, you know, when the proud mother looks at her toddler's page of crappy scribbles and is convinced it's some sort of post-impressionist masterpiece.

But then I thought I heard her say it again.

And so did Drew.

But Drew also eats pumpkin donuts off the carpet and has been known to reach into a toilet full of crap to grab a toy that he accidentally dropped in there.

So then I did what all new mothers do when they think they just heard their kid say their first words - they keep saying the words over and over again (which is completely unannoying) hoping that the baby will say it and prove that they actually did say those very words.

Except they could really just be saying it to try to get their mother to shut up.

But I'm not newbie, neophyte mom. Hell no. I decided that I would create an actual circumstance that would, in fact, call for the correct use of the word "uh-oh."

So I instituted my brilliant plan that included me knocking stuff out of her hands, or even better, dropping stuff on the floor.

Of course all she did was keep throwing shit just to listen to me say "uh-oh" and then pick it up over and over again with a look that seemed to say "Seriously, I know you didn't accidentally drop that yogurt wrapper on the floor mom, because if you did accidentally drop that yogurt wrapper on the floor you would have said 'shit' and you don't want me to say that do you?"

Needless to say, she never said it.

That was until she accidentally dropped a piece of her pretzel on the ground later on that day. Then I heard it plain as day:

"Uh Oh."

I'm not sure what was cuter.

Those two little sounds, strung together for the first time to formulate something that I could actually understand.

Or the smile on her face that I'm pretty sure was saying "I told you so."

Sarah Palin - Then and Now

I admit that I'm not much of an Oprah watcher. In fact, her air time here (4pm EST) might possibly be the worst time of our day ever.

It's like baby, toddler, kid, heck even mommy witching hour.

And honestly, most of the material Oprah has on these days, like OMG the woman who was mauled by the chimpanzee, I can't watch with my kids anywhere nearby.

But today I'm determined to tune in to watch the Sarah Palin interview.

During the presidential campaign, I was never really a McCain hater. And I wasn't even a huge Obama fan either. 

Hillary 2012!

heh.

But when Sarah Palin joined the race as the Republican Vice Presidential candidate, my vote for Obama was sealed.

It might seem ridiculous to choose a candidate based on their VP. As my husband pointed out during the election, it's hard to even remember some of the elected VPs.

And as my good friend and smart mama Punditmom pointed out during her CNN appearance, the discussion really shouldn't have been about Sarah Palin and all the 4000 things I disagree with her on (aside from the all the shady Governor bullshit and her views on sex education and abortion and gay rights and the fact that she's barely been outside her own state let alone the country and the whole situation with her pregnant daughter).

But the discussion should really have focused on the Presidential candidates.

However, if McCain kicked the bucket, we'd be left with President Palin. And I just wasn't ready to put my vote on that. 

But now Palin is back, promoting her new book, and the questions about her motives and future plans are out there, hopefully for Oprah to ask. Well that and how everything she wore on the campaign trail was picked for her. Even her glasses?! Say it ain't so!

On one hand, I want to be proud that we had a female Vice Presidential candidate. But on the other, I want to hide my head in the sand to think that she's the one they picked.

So what do you think? Do you care about what's she's doing? Will you read her book? What do you think about the whole Levi Johnston trainwreck? Regardless of your political affiliations, I'd love to know your thoughts on Sarah Palin - woman and mom. I'll be talking about it (along with the Oprah interview) tonight on CNN.